I forgot to put the tray back in.
And now the ice melts. Gone to it’s natural state. Poor
me, I can’t scoop up water. Too late to save what remains. And even as I place a freshly filled tray into
the fridge, I wonder.
We grow, explore and discover places. I never gained the sense of belonging, indulging the trappings of a vagabond. The mortal who saw it all,
experienced it all. You couldn’t pin me down, a true cosmopolitan! And it’s
been a similar affair in relationships. And maybe every bond I indulged myself in has been tainted with the same transience.
I met a multi-coloured canvas of people, painted myself with interesting experiences, tried to inform the brushstrokes of kindness and understanding – and failed too often to draw clearly what I envisioned. And now, this momentary empty tray reminds
me of the fragility of those moments. I was just passing by while everyone else
came and went.
I think if those ice cubes had a conscience, they might want to have stayed. To not be so easily replaceable, so ephemeral.
"My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
- Ozymandias, Percy Bysshe Shelley
❤
ReplyDelete